


Ashen One

by Crystro



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Dothraki on an open field, Dragons, Explicit Language, F/M, Honorable Starks are too honorable, Incest, Murder, R Plus L Equals J, Valyria, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:38:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystro/pseuds/Crystro
Summary: A child born into the ashes of his father's kingdom is raised within the viper's nest of King's Landing. Meanwhile, across the Narrow Sea, four children learn to depend upon one another as they struggle to reclaim the Iron Throne.





	Ashen One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScholaroftheArchive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScholaroftheArchive/gifts).



> I wasn't sure that I'd ever post this, in part due to my lack of confidence in my own writing. With that being said, I'd like to thank my dear friend Scholar for encouraging me to post this. In recent months your friendship has become something I treasure. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts. This world belongs to George R. R. Martin.

**Prologue**

**King Robert Baratheon, Smasher of Dragons**

Robert sat in his throne, awaiting Rhaegar’s last living son to be brought before him. He had heard the rumors about Lyanna betraying him, and the love that he held for her. But instead of returning his desire for her, she ran off with that bastard, Rhaegar. When Robert had heard of Lyanna giving birth to a dragonspawn he had cried for days. He screamed at the sky, and cursed the gods, wondering why they had punished him.

Afterwards, he had seethed, dreaming of torturing the baby for hours. He had dreamt of throwing the child into the air, and smashing it with his hammer. When rumors had circulated that the baby had died after birth, Robert had even been disappointed to not be able to fully satisfy his revenge. But then, informants within the Reach had relayed to Varys that Ned Stark was carrying a child back home to Winterfell. He had been proud of Ned at first, believing that the honorable northerner had finally sired a bastard. But when he had learned that Lyanna had been in Dorne, Robert put the pieces together. 

The lad was Rhaegar’s child, not Ned’s. Robert was furious. Rhaegar’s two siblings, the other remaining Targaryens, were hiding in Essos somewhere, having been spared from Stannis’ armada by a massive storm. The two dragonspawn could be dealt with in time, as they had no resources. However, Rhaegar’s son would have to be handled. The baby was in Westeros, and as such, he could be used as a way to start a rebellion against the Baratheon Kingdom. 

The King had finally settled on a suitable path to revenge. Robert intended to raise Rhaegar’s son to eliminate the final vestiges of Rhaegar’s accursed existence. Ned Stark had clearly intended to hide the boy far away in the North, and raise him away from the machinations of the capital. Robert simply could not allow that, the vestiges of his anger preventing him from allowing the child peace. The infant would grow to spit on the ashes of the Targaryen Dynasty. What he did not know, however, was how badly that choice would bite him many years beyond the foreseeable future.

‘How poetic,’ Robert thought, ‘How perfect.’ The massive doors opened slowly, and Ned Stark strode into the cavernous room, carrying the infant in his arms. The throne room went silent, even Cersei who usually couldn’t shut her damned mouth became a mute. The footsteps of the northern man echoed off the vaulted ceiling as he marched reluctantly towards the Iron Throne. 

Robert stared down at the man he had once called a friend with disappointment, and barely concealed anger. After all they had been through, Ned had thought to deny Robert the satisfaction of revenge. Apparently the Starks weren’t as honorable as he had thought they were. 

“Lord Eddard Stark,” the king said, addressing the man who knelt before him.

“My king,” Ned responded with a slight stammer, terrified of the idea that Lyanna’s son might meet the same fate as Elia’s children. 

Robert glowered down at Ned for what seemed like an eternity, and finally asked the question that the entire throne room had been waiting for. “Did you seek to betray me?” Even the breathing in the room seemed to stop, the single question escalating the tension in the room significantly. 

“That was not my intention, Your Grace,” Eddard answered quietly, “I sought to protect the last vestige of my sister from those who could crush it into dust. I sought to protect her child from a man who would splatter it’s blood against the walls of the Red Keep. From a man I once believed would be a good king, and has already begun to drink himself into stupors instead of residing over the efforts for reconstruction.” 

Robert considered his response, and nearly opened his mouth, before realizing that his plans for Rhaegar’s heir should not be common knowledge. He commanded the court to disperse, only asking that Cersei and the Small Council remain. The hall quickly emptied, and created a far more cavernous room. 

“Ned, you’ve betrayed me. I can no longer call you my brother. However, I can do you one last favor, I have no intention of crushing the boy’s skull like I desired to do to Rhaegar. But, you will not raise him in the North. He will be cared for in King’s Landing, and raised under royal protection. I want to be assured that he will not usurp the throne in the future.”

Ned nearly cried in disbelief, though he had hoped to raise him away from the viper’s nest that lay in King’s Landing, Robert offering to protect him was more than he could hope for. Ned placed the boy on the steps of the Iron Throne, and turned away, not wanting to induce anymore pain on this day than he had in recent weeks.

“His name is Maegor,” Ned said, as he headed towards the massive door at the end of the throne room. “Do not allow him to forget that,” he whispered as he exited the throne room. Robert knew that Lord Stark did not intend to return to King’s Landing for the foreseeable future, he had always said that Stark’s did not belong in the south.

Robert smiled maliciously, the boy was his to mold. The perfect justice for the final Targaryen’s, they had begun in Fire and Blood, and their fire’s would be extinguished at the hands of their own blood. The Usurper picked up the boy, and handed him to Cersei. The whore was worth very little to him. She was but a shadow of the wild beauty that Lyanna had been, and could never hope to compare to the Winter Rose of the North. 

“Take him to the royal chambers, and have the servants prepare a room for him. I want him well taken care of, the boy is the last trace of Lyanna,” Robert commanded, sending her away. With that, Robert sat on his throne, already growing complacent and believing his victory would be simple. He knew that it would take a while, but soon, The King would have his Blade. 

He motioned to Ser Barristan Selmy of the King’s Guard to come toward him. The Lord Commander kneeled in front of the throne, and awaited his commands. 

“When the time comes, yourself and the rest of the King’s Guard will train the boy. He will be the best sword in the realm, by the time he turns twenty,” the Stag ordained. Barristan’s eyes widened within his helmet, before returning to their normal size.

“It will be done, Your Grace.”

**Cersei, the Lioness of the Landing**

Cersei carried the boy, Maegor, Eddard had called him, within her arms towards the Royal Wing. Those of lesser status paused as she passed, and bowed, giving her the respect she was due. Despite her low opinion of Robert after the disastrous wedding night, Cersei had been enjoying the benefits of being the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. In her eyes, she had finally been granted the status that she deserved. Only the most beautiful woman in the kingdoms deserved to be queen. And that woman was her.

Cersei finally reached her destination in the most secure location of the Red Keep, and looked down at the sleeping child in her arms. Despite being an infant, Maegor had clearly obtained noticeable traits from his father, the shock of silver gold hair on top of his head being one of them. ‘In a different life, maybe this baby could’ve been mine,’ Cersei thought sadly. She had loved Rhaegar, even if he had not returned those feelings. 

She had tried so hard to make herself worthy of him, but he had rejected her, regardless of her attempts to satisfy him. No matter what Cersei had done, she was still not good enough. Bitterness arose within her, as she thought of all that she had done in vain. Rhaegar had still been married to that Dornish whore, Elia, and then he ran off with that barbaric northerner, Lyanna Stark. 

Cersei climbed the steps to the nursery, and laid the baby down in the nearest crib. The movement caused him to awake, and Maegor began to cry. Those cries seemed to echo throughout her soul, and in a rare moment of kindness, Cersei picked Maegor back out of his crib, and he quieted down. She rocked him back and forth, and began to hum the tune to a song that she remembered her mother singing to her. The faint memories of that song haunted her in that moment, resounding through the memories of a childhood and a mother that she had thought long forgotten. The babe seemed to be soothed by the sweet sound, resembling the ringing of pure bells on a winter night, and Maegor’s breathing slowed as he fell into a slumber.

Cersei truly pitied the child, he would be forced to grow up in King’s Landing without a mother or a father, raised to be the final component of revenge that had powered Robert for so long. The child.. in a way he reminded her of her young self, losing her mother at a young age. That hole within her yearned to be filled, and.. ‘Perhaps,’ Cersei thought cautiously, ‘I can fill the role of mother for him.’ He would not inherit any titles, but she could spare him from many of Robert’s machinations. If Robert’s intentions to make him the continents finest warrior came to fruition, then Cersei would ensure that Maegor’s loyalty lie with her. Her guidance would lead him to greatness. She would be his Visenya.

He would be her surrogate firstborn, and be a Lannister at heart, despite his appearance. He would be her sanctuary from Robert, if the man would not change. Once she was able, Maegor would be fed from her teat, and no one elses. She would ruin Robert’s plans, and avenge his humiliation of her on their wedding night. Maegor Targaryen would truly be a boon for her.

Cersei placed the child back in his crib, and went in search of her brother Jaime. She stalked the halls, before finally finding him guarding the King’s private bedchambers. She could hear the sound of whore’s giggling inside, as the handsome and much sought after king fucked them bloody. Already, he had betrayed her. She knew it wasn’t the first time that Robert had bedded whores, based on the rumors of his many bastards running around. However, this was the first time that she had caught him revelling in such company.

The queen felt her blood run cold, as her brother met her gaze with pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Cersei,” Jaime said quietly, “I advised him against it, but he told me to ‘Fook off’.” 

Cersei felt a tear run down her cheek, the King despised her this much? It had hardly been two months since the wedding, and it seemed that Robert Baratheon had already given up on any chance of creating a loving relationship.

Cersei felt her heart froze over. She would never forgive him for this. Jaime embraced her, and she cried into his shoulder, for what felt like an eternity.

**In Braavos, across the Narrow Sea**

A house with a red door was currently occupied by a man named Ser Willem Darry, a few guards and servants, and four sleeping children. The ex-Master of Arms at the Red Keep sighed as he stood on the balcony of his Braavosi home, thinking of the looming, dangerous future. They would have to grow up fast, there was no doubt in his mind that Robert would be sending assassins soon. The setting sun in the distance shining red, and seeming to bleed onto the calm waves of the Narrow Sea. As though the blood spilled on the Trident had followed him and those he had sworn to protect across the vast blue emptiness. 

He turned, and walked back inside the sparsely furnished house. Silence hung in the air, perhaps mingled with desperation. Ser Willem strode over to the bed that occupied the middle of the room, and looked down at the four young Targaryens. The final vestiges of their family’s legacy, and the only hope to break the Baratheon Dynasty. He could only hope that they would inherit the insanity of their parents.

Willem blew out the candles around the room, and exited, preparing to enter blissful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate any and all feedback. This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction so positive comments are welcome, as is constructive criticism.


End file.
